


lemon boy and i (we're gonna live forever)

by PUNK_MENACE



Series: lemon boy and me (we just gotta get along together) [1]
Category: Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Boundaries, Caretaking, Fluff, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Healthy Relationships, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, No On-Screen Violence, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Pain, Platonic Relationships, Self-Esteem Issues, Stitches, Team as Family, Trauma, Whump, and doesn't blame him for his trauma, cloud trusts tifa, do not copy to another site, god they're cute, i hit MYSELF with the feels, i will pepper in a bit of, it's all very healthy, ooey gooey feels, tifa respects cloud's boundaries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24052684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PUNK_MENACE/pseuds/PUNK_MENACE
Summary: Cloud goes off on an odd job, gets attacked by some cerulean drakes, and calls it a day. No need to address the ice burns or blood loss, in his opinion.Tifa thinks otherwise.(Alternatively: Tifa is a saint and Cloud needs better self-esteem.)
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart & Cloud Strife
Series: lemon boy and me (we just gotta get along together) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735219
Comments: 24
Kudos: 305





	lemon boy and i (we're gonna live forever)

**Author's Note:**

> I seriously can't believe I wrote this in one day and nearly all in one sitting. It's 12 pages and I wrote 8 of them all at once. Yay, me! Anyways, I don't ship Tifa and Cloud romantically that much so I decided I'd rather have them be best friends in this one. You can go ahead and use your shipping goggles if you want! 
> 
> **Title is from Lemon Boy by Cavetown.** I think it really suits Tifa and Cloud, seeing as how Cloud is a bitter little lemon boy. Plus, Tifa is so damn cool she doesn't take any of Cloud's crap, and she worries about him, too. (So do I, Tifa. So do I.)
> 
> Also, I have one more fic planned after this one - a direct continuation. There will be nightmares, y'all, and I'm not (super) sorry.

Cloud hates drakes. They’re glorified pigeons that spit ice. Today he had the misfortune to fight three at once while he was completing a long and overly tedious job. The pay would make up for it, at least, but now he’s stuck with some nasty ice burns. 

Looking out of the window of the Chocobo carriage, he sees the sun is setting already. It’s no surprise - Cloud had been forced to run around the outskirts Sector 5 as well as Wall Market for hours, collecting trinkets and delivering all sorts of crap.

The carriage is jostled as it rolls over a particularly large rock. He winces, shifting around until he’s comfortable again. Currently, he’s lying on his right side to keep a gash on his hip from opening again. As a soldier, his wounds tend to heal a lot faster, so he usually doesn’t have to worry about blood loss from a wound such as the one on his hip. He’s too exhausted to use a healing materia on himself, though, and likewise can’t summon the energy to cast cure on himself.

All he really needs is a good rest. He glances out the window again and sees that the Chocobo is about to pull up to the stop outside of the Sector 7 slums. As the carriage slows, Cloud clambers to his feet, not caring how awkwardly he moves. It would be a pain in the ass if any of his wounds opened up again and the ice burns are severely limiting his range of movement as is.

He tosses the stablehand the gil he owes for the ride without a word and begins limping toward his apartment. Seventh Heaven is usually on the way to the apartments if he takes the most straightforward route, but Cloud isn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, much less Avalanche. He wouldn’t mind running into Tifa, but the chances of being interrupted by the others or scaring Marlene with his injuries and subsequently angering Barret are too high.

The streets are mostly empty. Most people are inside sleeping or getting ready to. Those that are still awake watch him with wide eyes as he makes his way through the back alleys. Some are bolder and call out, asking if he needs help. He doesn’t bother answering. He doesn’t even feel like glancing up from where he has his gaze fixed. 

The slums aren’t too spread out, so it doesn’t take that long to make it to the apartment building. The last thing standing between Cloud and the privacy of his room is a single flight of stairs. 

Then he spots Marle.

He knows it’s going to be a damn hassle. She’ll probably mock him, which is somehow less obnoxious than her worrying about him, and Cloud just wants to get to bed. She perks up when she sees him and then immediately grimaces.

“Ah, Cloud.” She eyes his sword. Cloud takes another step and the dim light from the apartment buildings hits him. “What the hell happened to you, huh? Run into too many wererats?”

Ignoring her, Cloud makes his way to the base of the stairs. It’s best not to engage with Marle, he’s learned. Unfortunately, she’s a persistent old bat.

“Shouldn’t you get those looked at? Ice burns can get just as infected as regular burns. But I’m sure you know that, Mister SOLDIER.”

“ _Ex_ -SOLDIER,” he spits. He turns and gives her the best glare he can muster. She cocks an eyebrow. “It’s none of your business.”

She shakes her head and crosses her arms, rubbing the exposed skin. It is getting colder now. “You’re right. And it’s not like I care that much. But Tifa cares, and I care about _her_. But I’ll leave you to your dumbassery.” With that, she turns on her heel and retreats into her well-lit apartment.

Cloud sighs, placing his hands on the railing. He grips it tighter and brings his right boot up, not caring how loud it is as it clunks down on the metal stair. That was the easy part. Now he begins to bend his left knee and feels the muscles clench - something so small and quick becomes painstakingly slow. Maybe he had underestimated the wound on his hip. Every inch he moves, he feels the skin getting tugged on, feels the dormant pain explode into something he can’t ignore. Finally, he rests his left boot on the next stair and inhales shakily. 

One step was all it took for it to start bleeding again. He feels a steady stream of blood run down his thigh, disturbing the blood that had already dried. Cloud grimaces and he takes another deep breath. He lowers his head until his chin is tucked into his chest, too tired to keep looking up. Cloud shifts his hands higher up the railing, forced to go through the process all over again.

He doesn't know how long it takes. His mind went blank somewhere around the third step.

Regardless of the terrible throbbing in his hip, now accompanied by many other reopened wounds and the sting of ice burns, the door to his room is too alluring to wait for. He staggers forward, glad that Tifa is still working at Seventh Heaven, or else he definitely would have woken her up with all the noise he’s making.

Cloud all but collapses against the door. Normally, he wouldn’t be this tired. Wounds like these haven't affected him so much ever since he became a SOLDIER. He’s been stretched too thin these days though, fighting monster after monster. He may pride himself on his prowess in battle, but even Cloud starts to break when he’s this outnumbered. With everything else going on, he would never ask for Avalanche’s back up, either, and the townspeople would only be dead weight. 

This is how it should be, anyway. It’s what he gets for becoming a SOLDIER. His humanity, traded for immense strength. He can protect what matters to him - from afar, of course. Defending the Sector 7 slums is a way of keeping Tifa safe. No matter what, though, he knows he can’t get too close. He doesn’t have the luxury of living a ‘normal’ life.

He blinks hard and pushes aside that train of thought. No use dwelling on it. It’s not like he can do anything about it. Cloud twists the doorknob, leaning hard on the door as it swings open. The few steps he takes to reach the bed seem to span a mile. He grabs the handle of his sword, eager to get the huge weight off his back. As soon as it’s leaning securely on the wall, Cloud slumps onto the cold mattress. He then unceremoniously tips onto his side and clumsily tucks his legs up onto the bed. Wounds undressed, boots covered in dried mud and blood, Cloud closes his eyes and drifts to sleep.

* * *

Seventh Heaven is warm and well-lit, unlike its exterior. The doors are locked so that no one bothers them. Everyone is here - even Marlene was granted special permission to stay up a little later so that she could join in one of their rare celebrations. 

It’s hard, being in Avalanche. It’s even harder being part of a chapter of Avalanche that had defected from the group - they lost the organization’s support the moment Barret decided they needed a more radical approach. Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge had all followed enthusiastically, leaving Tifa to feel caught between the two. In the end, she knew these people were her family, and she couldn’t leave them. Even when their new job took a toll on her, day after day. After all, how could she leave them when they had been for her, after everything that happened in Niblheim?

Tifa looks out at them from behind the counter. They’re grinning and laughing around their drinks, trading stories. Of course, they’re perfectly family-friendly, at least until Marlene goes to bed. She finishes shaking up her drink and pours it out into a glass. 

Now all she needs is Cloud. She hasn’t seen him all day and knows that he’s busy juggling various odd jobs so that he can build up his savings, but she hopes he’ll join them anyway. Tifa knows he’s never been a very social person - it’s not exactly that he’s awkward or nervous, it’s just that he doesn’t quite care enough to socialize. When they were younger, around the time kids should be learning _how_ to socialize, the other kids didn't let him play. Tifa never left him alone if she could, but she was just a child, and couldn’t be around to protect him all the time. After that, he simply stopped caring that he was being excluded. Tifa secretly thinks he had to convince himself it was nothing big and, deep down, was always hoping to be included.

Then he left and became a SOLDIER. And his time in active duty changed him even more. _Sephiroth_ changed him.

Not enough for Tifa to look into those Mako-stained eyes and not see her best friend. He’s still Cloud, after all. People change with the seasons. They love each other regardless.

Her heart warms at the thought of Cloud. Five years ago, she had thought it was a crush. Now that she’s older, she knows that she loves Cloud, just not romantically. Her feelings still fill her with a spark, though, simply because she loves him that much, despite the time they spent apart. She wants him here now so that he can be a part of the family that took Tifa in. She wants that for him, too.

Tifa sets her drink down at the table where everyone is and gives them a playfully stern look. “This is my drink,” she says, “And if I come back and it’s gone, I’m kicking everyone’s asses. Oops, I mean, _butts_.” She gives Marlene a sheepish smile. The little girl giggles and sips her juice.

“Where’re you going, Tifa?” Biggs cocks his head.

“I’m going to invite Cloud over.”

Barret scoffs. “As if that shrimp would want to party with us instead of, I don’t know, sharpening his sword all night.”

Tifa scowls and sets her hands on her hips. “Barret…”

He sighs, takes a healthy swig of his drink, and concedes, “Fine. I’ll play nice. For you, Tief.”

Wedge, Biggs, and Jessie cheer at that and start to pester Barret with faux-awed exclamations.

“It’s a miracle!” Biggs crows.

Wedge snickers and cries, “No, he’s gotta be _super_ drunk already!” 

“Barret? A lightweight?”

“My worldview is _shaken_.” Jessie presses a hand to her chest and pretends to faint into Wedge’s arms, who fans her.

Tifa exits the bar chuckling, leaving them the key so that they could lock the doors again. It’s chilly outside, so she jogs lightly, hoping to get back into Seventh Heaven’s warm quickly. She hopes Cloud is keeping warm in his room and isn't out somewhere in the dark. A pinch of worry drops into her stomach, prompting her to run a bit faster. She almost feels silly worrying for Cloud, seeing as he’s an amazing fighter and a SOLDIER, but he’s also a chronic trouble magnet.

Marle is outside, which is odd because she’s usually in bed by this hour after a quick smoke.

“Tifa,” she calls, smiling tightly at her. 

“Hi, Marle. Is everything okay? I thought you’d be asleep by now.”

“Well, I was going to. But it’s that stupid boy you brought. He’s not looking too good.” She says, disdain clear in her voice.

Tifa doesn’t need to wonder what exactly it is that rubs people the wrong way about Cloud. His eyes say it all. On top of that, he’s got a bit of a temper, and his default seems to be _ornery_. If his SOLDIER status isn’t enough to set people off then his tendency to talk back and deal one-line insults always finishes the job.

“Marle, I know you don’t like him, but--”

“I’m not talking about his _looks_ , Tifa. Even I can’t deny he’s not too harsh on the eyes, and you know I don’t go for men.” Marle shakes her head, hair bouncing side to side, and rubs her arms for warmth. “See that blood on the stairs? That’s his.”

Tifa’s heart all but stops. She freezes. Dread creeps up her throat as she turns and spots the blood smeared all the way up the stairs. 

Before Marle can say another word, Tifa is racing up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. She slides to a stop in front of Cloud’s door, immediately banging on it. “Cloud?” She calls. “Cloud, it’s me, Tifa!”

Nothing. Cloud is a light sleeper - and that’s the understatement of the year - and she knows he should have already woken up from the sound of her stomping on the stairs. He should have been up and ready to defend himself by the time she knocked on the door. 

Tifa doesn’t hesitate. She barges into the room, not caring if she may have breached Cloud’s privacy, and is met with a sight that makes her stomach drop. Cloud is lying on the edge of his bed, one arm hanging off as if he barely even made it to the bed before falling asleep. He’s lying on his right side and Tifa knows instantly it has to do with the large bloodstain on his left hip. 

She creeps forward and kneels beside him, taking in all the blood and burns. The skin is white, not red, so she guesses they must be ice burns. Even though Tifa just wants to wrap him up in her arms, she doesn’t dare touch him when he’s asleep. She knows that even asleep, physical touch would be too much without warning, and he might wake up swinging. Not that she wouldn’t be able to block it, but she doesn’t know the extent of his injuries, and any sudden movement could make him worse.

Instead, she backs up a bit and calls out his name. It takes several tries, each time increasing her volume, but she knows it’s the right call when he finally jerks awake. He sits up quickly, reaching for his sword, but his eyes are on Tifa before he even grabs it. His hand is trembling violently. She notes that his face is flushed, too.

“...Tifa.” He croaks. “What’re you doing here?”

With the coast clear, Tifa sits on the bed beside him, motioning for him to lie back down. She doesn’t speak until he obeys. “I was coming to invite you to the Seventh Heaven for a little get together with the others,” she explains, “Instead I find you like this.”

Not an ounce of guilt fills his eyes. He simply stares up at her and says, “I’m fine. Just need to sleep it off.”

Tifa’s face hardens for a moment. She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. _It’s trauma_ , she thinks, _He isn’t being difficult on purpose. It’s just old scars making him ache._ Her expression softens. “Well, I’m here now. How about I patch you up back at the bar? I know you don’t have any supplies.” Gently, slowly, she puts her palm to his neck, then his cheek, and his forehead. “I’m pretty sure you’ve already got an infection.”

Cloud closes his eyes when she touches him. He won’t let himself lean into it, she knows, so Tifa just keeps her hand where it is. Then she starts brushing her fingers through his hair. She lets him lie there and breathe.

“You’re not really asking, are you,” he says, no trace of venom or heat in his words. Just an acknowledgment of the truth.

“Nope.”

“‘Kay,” he murmurs. “But, my hip…”

She smoothes his ruffled hair down once more - though it just stands right back up - and slides off the bed. “I’ll carry you, then.”

Cloud opens his eyes and sighs but doesn't reject the idea. He nods, shuffling around for a moment before slowly sitting up. “I’m taking my sword.”

“I know.” Tifa turns away and kneels. “Don’t worry about it.”

She doesn’t mind. Even if she did, she wouldn’t stop him. Tifa has never seen Cloud without a sword after the day he left the village and he certainly has developed separation anxiety by now. The weight is inconsequential to her, anyways. 

The metal clanks and then she feels Cloud lower himself down onto her back. He drapes one arm over her shoulder and tucks his legs into her sides, allowing her to hook her arms under his thighs. His other arm hangs down nearly limp, grasping the handle of the sword, holding it out and away.

Tifa straightens up with no problem. Cloud could be a lot heavier, to be honest, but then again, most of his weight is lean muscle. Biggs, for example, is more of a jack-of-all-trades man and not solely a fighter, so he hasn’t built as much muscle as Cloud, and so he’s lighter despite being taller. It doesn't matter how heavy Cloud is, though. She's worked hard to be strong enough to carry him.

Cloud’s breath is warm against her cheek, his chin soft on her shoulder. He doesn’t complain once, but his whole body is taut, no doubt in pain. She’s worried about the gash on his hip. He had obviously fallen asleep right after getting back from whatever job he completed. Without cleaning his wounds, there could be bits of material from his clothes in that gash along with all sorts of nasty pollution. She isn’t at all surprised that he’s radiating warmth due to fever; burns are so quick to become infected. He really covered all his bases this time.

She had tried to keep the pace quick but smooth to keep from jostling him but there’s no way to make it up the stairs to Seventh Heaven without a bit of pain. Getting down the apartment building's steps had been nightmarish. As she rises onto the first step, careful as she can be, Cloud groans. It’s thin and quiet. Tifa knows he’s trying to stay silent and she never would have heard it if Cloud weren’t pressed against her back right now.

“Sorry,” she whispers.

His only response is, “Mm-mm.”

Finally, she makes it to the locked doors of her bar. Shifting her weight to one foot, she kicks the door with the other, boot thudding loudly against the wood. “It’s me!” Tifa waits for a bit, hearing the lock click. The door swings open, revealing the two of them to the others.

Jessie, who had opened the door, had been grinning widely. “Didja manage--” She starts, then processes what she’s seeing, and her grin vanishes from her face. “Oh, crap!”

“What the hell?” Barret stands immediately, scooting Jessie away from the door gently. “Tifa, what happened?” He motions for them to come inside. As Tifa makes a beeline to a clean table by the counter, Barret locks the door again.

“Nothing,” Cloud says, voice hard. His efforts to remain stoic are completely dashed when Tifa lets him down gently onto the tabletop, only for him to curse quietly. 

“I’m going to patch him up,” Tifa says. She helps him lie back, clicking her tongue at him harshly when he tries to resist. “His wounds are already infected, so I want to keep an eye on him here. Could one of you go get my medkit?” 

Cloud turns his head toward the other wall, not wanting an audience. Tifa rubs his shoulder placatingly.

Wedge volunteers to go and frantically runs off to the back room where they keep some of their medical supplies. Jessie and Biggs sit back down at their table, trying not to stare and failing miserably. Barret openly stares down at Cloud, eyes fixed to the dark smear of blood running from the ex-SOLDIER’s hip down to the top of his boot. 

He turns away and kneels down. Marlene climbs up onto his arm, wrapping her little arms around his neck. She’s watching Cloud with wide eyes. “I think it’s time for you to go to bed, little lady.” Barret adjusts her so that when he turns to go through the same door Wedge did, she can’t twist around to see Cloud anymore.

“Is he going to be okay?” She asks, voice soft. “Does he need a lolly?”

Tifa feels her heart melt, imagining Marlene holding out a lollipop to Cloud. Whenever she got hurt, Tifa would sweep her up into a hug and give her a lollipop. Marlene doesn’t wander from the bar too much so that if her dad ever comes home, she’ll be there to greet him. So, she doesn’t get hurt very often, like the other kids scraping their knees or getting little cuts on their fingers. Tifa is thankful for this, since candy is hard to come by in the slums, and sometimes she runs out before the others can snatch her some when they’re plateside. Despite this, Marlene just offered one of her precious lollipops to Cloud, who had scared her the first time they met.

“You know what? I think he does. I’ll give it to him for you though, baby.”

“M'kay.” 

With that, Barret disappears into the back to get Marlene ready for bed. Tifa turns her attention back to Cloud.

He’s looking at the door Marlene and Barret just went through, surprise blatant in his eyes. She notes in the bright light of the bar that his eyes are a bit bloodshot and except for his cheeks, the rest of his skin is pale.

“I thought she hated me…” He murmurs so quietly, Tifa wonders if he meant to say that out loud at all. 

Tifa huffs out a laugh, trying not to think too deeply about how many people Cloud thinks hate him. “You startled her, that’s all. People don’t usually walk around frowning so hard, especially not when Marlene is involved. Plus, you have that big sword.” Cloud hums and closes his eyes. His hand twitches in the direction of his sword which lies on the bench beside him. 

Wedge bursts from the door, medkit in his arms. “Found it!” 

It’s a testament to how exhausted Cloud is that he only flinches when the door flies open. Tifa hopes that it's also because he’s just used to the others’ antics by now. Wedge jogs over and deposits the medkit on the bench. 

“Here ya go.”

“Thanks, Wedge. You can go sit with Jessie and Biggs if you want.”

“Don’t you need any help? Cloud...kinda looks like a cerulean dragon made him its chew toy.”

One of Cloud’s fever-glazed eyes slides open and he growls, “You wanna say that again?” His words slur together a bit but the message is clear. Wedge’s mouth shuts with a click and he marches over to the other table without another word.

Now that he’s gone, the two of them have about as much privacy as they can, being stuck in the middle of the bar. She would have taken him to the backroom, but Marlene is back there, and she didn’t think Cloud could take much more travel after the stairs.

Tifa opens the medkit, grabbing gauze that isn't sticky, antiseptic, fever medicine, and soothing ointment. She can’t pull out all the big stops (AKA, medicine for the pain) since Cloud isn’t too hurt and she knows he heals faster than most people. She’ll disinfect the cuts and burns, lather a bit of ointment on the worst of the burns, and then wrap them. Then, she’ll make him take some medicine for his fever, but she can’t give him much for the pain since pain medicine is hard to come by. She doesn’t think he’ll want any either way. 

“Cloud,” she calls. He stirs, opens his eyes halfway. “I need to, ah, access your wounds.” _You need to get half-naked in front of his almost-strangers._

He grunts. _I hate that but I’ll do it because you’ll beat me up if I don’t_. Tifa helps him sit up again and get his spaulder off, then his sweater. Then he lies back down and lifts his hips so he can pull his pants off while Tifa pulls his boots off. Underneath, he wears a pair of black boxers, thankfully intact. 

Tifa does her best to block his body with her own. Though she knows the others do their best to be respectful, Cloud is honestly a sight to behold. Covered in blood and grime and pale ice burns, he’s looking pretty rough. And yet, she admits all that training left him with impressive muscles. She doesn’t see him that way - not the way other people do. But she’s not afraid to admit he’s attractive. Beautiful, even, though she wouldn’t say that out loud, so as to not embarrass him. 

With Cloud lying down again, Tifa cracks open the bottle of antiseptic and gets to work. Cloud doesn’t make a sound even as she has to get the tweezers and extract tiny bits of fabric from the huge gash on his hip. She thanks whatever divine force is out there that the gash hadn’t had time to close after being jostled open, or else she would have had to reopen it herself. The risk of becoming septic due to fabric in the wound is too high to ignore. He tenses up, of course, the muscles in his arms bunched up tight as his hands curl into fists. His face is scrunched into a deep scowl, mouth set hard, but Cloud doesn’t let a single noise escape him. He wouldn’t, not even if it were just he and Tifa. With the others - including Barret now that Marlene was asleep - in the room, his resolve is twice as strong.

Finally, with all his wounds clean, Tifa can move on to applying the lotion. Cloud relaxes immensely under her ministrations, face almost completely smoothing out as she carefully applies the synthetic aloe vera. Then she unspools a length of gauze, wraps it loosely around the burn, and cuts off the section. She continues slowly, just as careful with the next burn, until all that’s left to dress are the cuts. She wraps the cuts a little tighter, thankful that there aren’t that many to dress. Finally, she gets to the gash on his hip, which she estimates it’s about 5 inches long. Long enough that she’ll have to stitch it up. Shit.

“Cloud.” Again, he stirs, but this time barely opens his eyes. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to need to stitch this gash.” He closes his eyes, jaw clenching silently. He nods.

“Go ‘head.”

Just a few stitches. It just needs a few. She’ll get them done quickly. She’ll get about 25 stitches done as quickly as possible.

Tifa grabs the suturing needle and silk and gets to work, pushing the needle through his skin as fast as she can while still making sure it’s as neat as possible. Every time the needle goes through, Cloud stops breathing, body held frozen on the table. Then she pulls the silk through and he melts onto the wood again. Over and over, until she gets to the halfway point and suddenly, Cloud pounds his fist into the table.

“Fuck,” he hisses, still trying to be quiet.

However, his strike had rattled the table, and the room had gone silent. The others whipped their head around. His voice, low as it had been, was enough to reach them.

“...Sorry…” He mutters, even as he shakes, soaked in sweat.

Tifa shushes him and pauses to grab his clammy hand, massaging his palm with her thumb. “Halfway through. It’s almost over, okay?”

He doesn’t nod, just squeezes her hand once before letting go. She turns back to her work, feeling a bead of sweat run down her face. Her full concentration is on Cloud and trying to make the process of stitching him together as fast and painless as possible. Her hands are steady as they’ve ever been as she threads the needles through his skin, again and again, trying to ignore every little flinch and choked-off groan. At one point, she must hit a particularly sensitive spot. Cloud’s nails scratch slowly on the wood. Tifa breathes slow and deep, pushing all other thoughts from her mind.

Finally, _finally_ , she ties off the last stitch. “Done.” Cloud’s head lolls on the table as he pants, still trying his best to remain silent. Tifa takes a moment to just wipe the sweat off his brow with a tea towel. “You can sleep once I wrap your hip, okay?” 

Cloud swallows. “‘M not gonna sleep here.”

“Fine,” Tifa acquiesces, “I can’t let you drink, what with the fever medicine, but if you’re up for it, you can join us. If not, I can carry you back to your room, okay?” 

She lets him think about it while she wraps some gauze around his hip, securing it in place with a couple of loops on his thigh. Once she’s done, she packs everything back into the medkit and goes to wash her hands at the sink behind the counter. Tifa feels most of the tension melt off her shoulders now that Cloud is in one piece. She knows he’ll heal up perfectly fine and the infection is (currently) nothing to worry about. 

Tifa heads back to the table to help Cloud get his pants back on when she’s intercepted by Biggs.

“Here,” Biggs says, holding out a pair of pants. His hand is rubbing the back of his neck and he won’t look down, face almost as flushed as Cloud’s. “Figured you could use a pair until that one gets fixed up.”

Cloud stares at the offered pants, dazed and hesitant in equal measures. He grabs them and says, “Thanks.” As soon as the pants are out of his hands, Biggs is scrambling back to the other table. Tifa holds back a laugh as he stares at the pants for another long moment. Then, she helps him scoot forward so that his legs hang off the table. Together, they get the pants on him with as little movement as possible. They’re dark green and the fit is vastly different from his SOLDIER uniform. Though these pants are much less wide, they’re also a bit long for him, since Biggs is a couple of inches taller. Tifa can see he’s much more comfortable with the pants on, though. There’s barely any exposed skin. His chest was mostly unscathed but for a couple of inconsequential scratches. Aside from that, virtually every inch of his arms is wrapped, all the way to his shoulders. 

Now that she got some medicine in him, Cloud looks a little more awake. A tall cup of water had refreshed him somewhat. “I’ll stay here. Thanks for patching me up, Tifa.” 

Tifa holds her arms open, awaiting permission. Cloud nods, and she wraps her arms around him gently, feeling as he leans his head on his shoulder. She rubs his back a bit, glad that it was untouched compared to his front, and then pulls away. “Don’t thank me. I’m just happy that you’re staying. How about we join the others?”

Cloud leans back against the table. “Are you sure that’s okay?” He looks away, apparently very interested in a floorboard. “I don’t…” _Don’t want to make them uncomfortable. Don’t want to hang around after they saw that_. _Don’t know how to talk to people like a normal human_.

Tifa leans over so she’s looking him in the eye. “Of course it’s okay. They don’t, hm...they don’t…” _They don’t hate you and they don’t think you’re weak for showing that you’re in pain. That you’re fallible. That you’re not the perfect, ruthless SOLDIER everyone thinks you should be._ “You’re welcome here, Cloud. I want you to be here.”

Cloud holds her gaze. Then he nods. “Alright.”

Together, they limp over to the table that the others are at, chatting away as though nothing had happened. Tifa helps him sit down slowly and then takes a seat beside him. Her drink is still intact. Grateful, she shoots them a smile and takes a generous sip. The drink feels warm from her mouth down to her stomach, allowing her to fully relax.

“Hey, you’re looking better!” Jessie smiles genuinely, not trying to put on an act. “Don’t you want a drink?”

Cloud looks surprised that she had spoken to him. He blinks, processes her question. “No...thanks. I don’t drink often.”

Before anyone can answer, Barret clears his throat. The table goes quiet. He holds up his fist, then extends it to Cloud. The ex-SOLDIER stares at him, eyes unreadable. Barret uncurls his fist.

“You want a lolly, then?”

Tifa bursts into full-belly laughter, body feeling warm not just from her drink, but from her family’s presence, too. She watches as Cloud stutters, flushing a deeper read from his ears to his chest. Then she laughs again as he takes the candy and, blushing furiously, and pops it into his mouth.

He looks stunned for a second. “Well?” Biggs asks, grinning widely.

Cloud looks down at the table, his brow mostly smoothed out for once. “It’s sweet.” Somehow, that was the perfect thing to say. Though it makes Tifa wonder how long it's been since he's tasted something sweet, she does her best to focus on other things. Cloud is safe and sound and she's finally made the two pieces of her little family fit together. Well, they fit better than before. It's not perfect, but she doesn't mind.

While everyone gets a bit tipsier, Cloud drinks his water, and they all snack on peanuts. As the night goes on, he slumps lower and lower, until the festivities have mostly quieted down and he's barely awake. Tifa knows he won't make it back to the apartments tonight so she decides to get him down to the Avalanche meeting room instead.

Cloud is pliant as she guides him onto her back again. It would be simpler to just cradle him, but he's far more vulnerable that way. He's adamant about carrying his sword himself.

They make it down easily enough, though. The others had gotten drunk enough that it was smarter to just sleep in the meeting room, too. Eventually, all five of them - excluding Barret, who always sleeps next to Marlene - make it down and spread out over the couches. They're all pull-out couches, so there's enough space for Tifa and Cloud to have a bed to themselves.

Tifa lies on her side, looking over Cloud yet again. His eyes are closed, but his breathing hasn't changed yet, so she knows he's awake. But they don't need to exchange words. All she does is spread her hand on the mattress between them.

Cloud's hand presses down on her own. She laces their fingers together. It's an old routine, comforting in its familiarity. She closes her eyes and allows herself to drift off to the sounds of her family breathing alongside her.

**Author's Note:**

> Come on down to my [Tumblr](https://james-writes-occasionally.tumblr.com/)! There's also a link to my main. You can send me requests for a story if you want, or just chat with me! :D


End file.
